


Flowers on the Ground

by GeekLibrarian



Series: Flowers [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Violence, Swearing, alternative universe, beware of chickens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 09:10:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4257648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeekLibrarian/pseuds/GeekLibrarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader has moved to a new house in a quiet subrub, but her unsual pets make that her relationship with her neighbor start with the wrong foot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flowers on the Ground

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anhyrenkai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anhyrenkai/gifts).



> Request: "I would love it if you wrote a Castiel/Reader fan fiction. I kind of multi-chapter slow-burn deal with plenty of back story and such.  
> So basically it will be a neighbor fic, in which Castiel and reader are neighbors. The reader has chickens....( I love chickens and have some as pets in real life!!) Here's the twist they meet when one of her chickens escapes and starts tearing up his flowers! Obviously romance and a whirl-wind journey ensue. Let your mind go wild!!"
> 
> So, this first part is not so romantic-fluffy and all, but I PROMISE the next ones will be. I just needed to set the bases for the story. I hope you like it!

The new neighborhood was everything you’d ever wanted for a place to settle. Clean streets with wide sidewalks, no buildings on sight, beautiful gardens and lots of kids and dogs running on the warm afternoons that spring was offering.

It had taken you too long find such a beautiful place. A place where you felt like home and safe, a place to settle and feel like it was _there_ where you’d find love and grow old and die. And if you didn’t… well, at least you had your animals.

That morning you woke up to the rooster’s song and ran to the window to try to make him stop.

“I’m gonna have to do something about that singing” you said to yourself as you heard the screams coming from the house next to yours. He was going to come later, you knew that, and he had all the reasons, you knew _that_ as well. Still he could be a lot more comprehensive.

You next door neighbor worked a night shift, and returned home only an hour before Merlin, your rooster, started singing every morning, so obviously he was really pissed when woken up.

You went downstairs and started preparing breakfast while Merlin kept singing outside, and soon enough you heard the angry knocking on you door.

“I _know_ , I’m truly sorry!” you said while opening it, you face completely red.

“Sorry is _not enough_!” He said with a deep growl. He was standing on your porch in a deep blue dressing gown that matched his bright eyes perfectly, a hand resting in the door frame and his hair completely messed, and despite the whole situation, you couldn’t stopped yourself from thinking that he looked really hot. “We’ve had this talk. I have to sleep. I _need_ to sleep. SHUT THAT DAMN ROOSTER OR I WILL!”

“I CAN’T!” you shouted back, anger impregnating your voice after the threat. “It’s in Merlin’s nature to sing! I can’t stop him!”

“Well, there must be something you _can_ do. And you better do it, because if I wake up _one more time_ … I… I…” he let out an exasperated grunt and walked away, back to his house with the gown fluttering beside him.

“He wouldn’t…” you whispered as you watched him go, arms crossed over your chest. But you weren’t completely sure about that.

A couple of hours later Merlin had already stopped singing and you were sitting in your computer, looking for ways to make him stop, but most of them where things like poisoning, beheading, cooking, and many different and very violent ways of killing a rooster. You sighed in defeat, thinking that maybe the best was sending it back to your mother’s farm, on the other side of the country; but you weren’t happy about that thought, and Merlin (along with Gen, Morgan and Nimue, you chickens) was your pet-friend.

You left the house and walked to the back of the garden, were the cage was built.

“I don’t want to put you down, Merlin” you said, walking in and sitting in a little stool. “But what am I going to do with your singing? Mister Grumpy next door is right and you should shut up… I just don’t know what to do!” The rooster was looking at you with his head tilted a bit, walking and eating bugs every once in a while. “I’m gonna have to send you back to momma. Best if y’all go back there. It’s no place for a group of hens and chicken. I wish I didn’t have to, though… you’re like my only friends.”

Your voice was sad, and with a sigh you walked back inside. On the other side of the fence, Castiel, your neighbor, had stopped working on his flowers and sat there, a bit heavy on his heart.

\----------------

The sun was almost down when you heard the knocking on the door. The clock marked half past six and you wondered who would be at your door so late. You left the cup of coffee next to your laptop, where the story you were writing was refusing to progress, and walked to the front door wrapping a big sweater around you.

“Oh, hi…” you said a little hesitantly when you saw your hot blue-eyed neighbor standing there, fully dressed this time. “Is Merlin singing?”

“Hello. No, no, he’s not.” He wouldn’t raise his eyes from the doormat, and his posture was a lot less imposing than that morning. “I… I did a bit of research and read that if you cover a rooster’s head he won’t notice dawn and… well… he won’t sing until you take it off.”

His hand raised and there was a tiny knitted black hood. Your jaw fell and for a second froze on your spot, hand on the door knob.

“Uhm… I hope I’m not crossing any line here?” he said tentatively, finally looking at you and making you come back from stupor, shaking you head vigorously.

“No, no! Not at all. I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting this. I really thought you were going to behead him.”

“Oh, I couldn’t. I just get really grumpy when I’m tired.” He gave a small smile and after you grabbed the hood turned around and walked away, waving, but he stopped an whirled around again.

“I’m Castiel, by the way. Well, Cas.”

“Y/N”.

 “Have a good night, Y/N.” He said.

“You too, Cas.”

When the sun went down you walked to Merlin and put the tiny hat on his head.

“Let’s see if this actually works…”

And for a couple of days it did, you’d take the hood out of Merlin’s head around ten in the morning, giving Castiel the chance to have a full six hours sleep. It was a good thing, though you kind of missed his punches in the door and his shuffled hair. Now that the rooster wasn’t messing with his sleep, you didn’t see much of him anymore, except when he was working in his flowers, but you were usually working at those times, so you would just watch him from your study’s window. You’d wave at him in the streets and exchanged a few words, but not more than that.

And then, one afternoon that caught you especially inspired, the banging took you off the keyboard in a rush. You almost ran downstairs, because the knocking wouldn’t stop, and you were a bit frightened it would fall apart.

“Okay, okay!” you shouted “I’m coming! Geez!” And when you opened the door there he was. In his gardening clothes, covered in dirt and a fire in his cobalt eyes. “What?”

“Your chicken… your _god damn chicken_ …” he was shaking in anger but his voice was steady, and your stomach became stone at the sound of it.

“What? Which one? What happened?” you said, misreading his expression and turning around to run to your backyard.

“She _escaped_.” He grunted, a hand over his face and turning his back on you. “Just… just go get her before I regret something.”

You followed him silently. His house was neat and perfectly organized, though cold and lacking of memories or any kind of decoration. His yard, on the other hand, was a beautiful masterpiece. Or was… until Morgan had escaped the cage and destroyed half of it. Your hands flew to your mouth to suppress a scream.

“Oh my god… Oh god… I… I don’t…”

“Just grab her and take her away.” Said Castiel in voice that would froze an ocean, not looking at you and already kneeling beside one of the teared flower beds.

You did as he said and walked away with a small “sorry” and a smaller “good bye” that he didn’t returned.

\----------------------------

The incident clearly moved something inside Castiel who stopped acknowledging you at all. You’d see him sometimes in the grocery store, or the gas station, but even though you tried to approach him he’d just walk away without even looking.

“Come on, Cas!” you pled one day as he kept walking past you with his bags.

“It’s not your fault, darling.” Said a voice on your back, and when you turned around you found yourself facing the mechanic from the workshop down street. He held a hand to you and introduced himself “Dean Winchester.”

“Y/N Y/L/N” you shook it and spin on your heels again just in time to see Castiel closing the door after glancing back at you and Dean. “I wish it wasn’t my fault.”

“Oh, he told me about the chicken and the flowers. But still, he’s over reacting.”

“You… you talk to him? Like… regularly?”

“He’s my friend, Y/N, almost a brother to me.” He said with a laugh and a spark in his eyes. “Cas and I, and my brother Sam, we go way back. So believe me when I tell you that his reaction is not all your fault. Give him time, it’s just hard to him.”

“Okay… but why?”

“Maybe another day…” said Dean patting your shoulder and staring at the window from where Castiel was peaking at you.

He said goodbye and left you to walk into his house. You sighed a bit and walked into your own. The lights were off and the sun was falling, so the entire place was covered in a dim golden light that made your place look empty and huge. Your footsteps echoed loudly in the wooden floors as you made your way to the kitchen to put away the contents of your shopping bag.

Through the window you could see the cage and in it, Merlin, Morgan, Gen and Nimue. Since the flowers episode, you had reinforced the cage, and they were now locked up in a really awful cage with double wiring. Also the edges were buried deep so they couldn’t dig it out again, and Merlin still slept with his little hood.

“Well… I guess this is as far as we get together as a family, guys.” You mumbled to yourself, finally accepting in your heart what you had to do.

Early next day, the four birds were in individual cages, ready to travel across country to your mother’s farm. You had hired a private van to take them that picked them up at eight in the morning, so at ten, when Merlin should’ve began to sing, no sound was heard in the entire street.

That first day was slow and filled with angst, because you were anxious about your pets arriving harmless at your mother’s, but that wasn’t going to happen until next afternoon. So you sat down and wrote. You wrote the entire afternoon without stopping, and without thinking how badly you wanted to punch Castiel on the face.

Next day went pretty much the same, only at around four in the afternoon you received you mother’s call saying that all four birds had arrived in good conditions and that they were already back in their henhouse with all the others.

“Merlin hasn’t stopped singing since they arrived.” She said happily, and you smiled sadly.

“Good.”

It was past ten in the evening when you heard the doorbell. You were cuddled in the couch, a wool blanket around your shoulders, a beer in one hand and the remote on the other, changing channels at light speed, not even looking what was in. You barely looked the way the entrance of the house was, and then went back to pressing the button and drinking from your bottle.

It rang again. And this time you actually muted the TV, and stared at the archway that led to living room and the front door, twisting your head a little too much, making your neck hurt. And it rang again.

“Okay! Okay! I’m coming!” you shouted, putting down the remote and bottle, but still wrapped in the blanket you stood up and dragged your feet all the distance.

“What!” you snapped opening the door, even before you saw that the one ringing the bell was Castiel. “Oh… since when do you use the bell? I thought your trade mark was to try and break down the door.”

“Yeah… sorry. I just…” He handed you an envelope “This arrived for you this morning at my home. The postman must’ve misread the address.”

“Oh… okay, thanks.” You grabbed the letter and stood there, looking at him. “Anything else?”

He was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his hands in his pockets now and his eyes sweeping the floor. He obviously had something to say, but the words weren’t coming out, and you just weren’t on the mood to have him there at that time of night babbling around.

“Yes… uhm… no. No, nothing. I’m sorry to have disturbed you so late at night.”

“Yeah… It’s kinda late… What _are_ you doing home?” you asked suddenly, straightening up a little.

“It’s my free night.” He said, and he went back to his place, but at half the distance he turned around. “What happened to Merlin?” he asked.

“He’s gone. They all are. I sent them back home.” And you shut the door and went inside.

\------------------------

Next day you were once more interrupted by the doorbell when you were in the middle of a sentence. You swore under your breath, first because it startled you and second because you lost your trail. You weren’t so happy with the neighborhood anymore.

“Oh don’t worry!” you shouted approaching the door “Next one to leave will be me!”

“Hey, Y/N!” said a happy Dean standing on the porch with a smile. “I hope you don’t mean that about leaving…”

“Dean. Can I help you?”

“I thought maybe you could offer me a cup of coffee, and I could shed some light over some matters.” And he pointed Cas’ house with his head.

“I’m not sure I’m on the mood. I’m sorry. I’m actually a bit mad at him right now and I don’t think I care if he’s still mad at me.”

“Yeah…” he rubbed the back of his head and let himself fall against the doorframe. “He told me you gave away your pets.”

You sighed heavily and rolled your eyes. “Anything else he told you about me? Does he peek at me from the windows? Keeps an eye on me? Does he know when my period is due?!”

Dean chuckled a little and fixed his green-ish eyes on yours.

“He does. Not the period thing! No, I meant… He actually cares about you a lot, but he’s very shy and… well… he’s afraid.”

“Afraid of _what_?”

“What about that cup of coffee?”

You lingered for a second, but finally moved away, giving him space to walk inside. He whistled as he stepped inside, looking at you approvingly.

“Nice place!”

“Oh, it’s a mess… I’m not very tidy, and… well, I don’t really care.” You said with a weak smile trying to put some order, picking up coats and purses that were lying in every chair and couch.

“No, but it’s nice. It’s cozy. It’s different.”

“You mean, it’s not Cas’ place” you said significantly.

“Yeah… no, I meant it’s not the workshop or my place, actually. This looks a lot like my brother Sam’s place. I think you’d get along with his wife, Jess.” He picked up a blue jar from one of the shelves “You’ve got like the same kind of junk…”

He stopped dead and put the little jar back in its place, realizing too little too late what he was saying.

“Junk?”

“Oh, come on. I didn’t mean it that way! I just… I don’t find any sense to this… _things_.”

“It’s called _decoration_ , Dean. And I’ll be very pleased if you don’t insult my tastes while at my house.”

“Sorry.” He said, and followed you to the kitchen.

You poured some coffee from that morning into a couple of mugs and put them in the microwave.

“I hope you don’t mind…”

“Hell no, anything that’s not instant coffee is heaven.”

There were a couple of minutes where the only sound in the room was hoovering sound of the cups swirling inside the machine. Finally the beeping noise filled the kitchen and you took the coffee out, placing one in front of Dean.

“There.”

“That smells amazing.” He said with a smile.

“Okay, I kept my side of the deal, let’s see what you have.”

“Okay.” Said Dean holding the cup with both hands, his face now dead serious. “There’s one thing you need to understand about Cas, and that is that he’s very shy and has the social skills of a lettuce.”

You let out a little snarl and a giggle.

“So you’d understand that it’s very hard to engage in any kind of relationship. Once said that, that garden, it’s his only treasure. And it isn’t even his.”

“What do you mean?”

“Castiel was married.” Dean said, fixing his eyes on yours. “He was married to Meg for about three years.”

“What happened?”

“She died… Actually, she was killed. In a mugging. She was taking a shortcut across town at night and… well, taking her purse and phone wasn’t enough, the bastard had to stab her too.”

Silence fell again and you took a deep breath to try and push down the knot that had formed on your chest.

“It was her garden.” You whispered, certain of your words.

“Yeah. Meg wasn’t really a caring person. She was very cold and sarcastic and poignant and… well, she was very… cynical. She was a bitch. But if I’m sure of something, is that there was only two things she cared about in this world, one was Cas, the other was that garden.”

“And my hen went and destroyed it.”

“Yeah… well. I don’t blame you _or_ your chicken. I do believe Cas needs to detach himself from Meg’s memory. She’s been gone almost four years now, that’s longer than the time they were married.”

“Well, having a chicken destroy the only memory of your dead wife is not a very good way to find closure.” You said, sipping your coffee.

“No, but meeting a lovely woman is.” He said, smiling at you with a mischievous look in his eyes.


End file.
